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B l u e .
My eyes are robin's eggs
my hair is candy floss
my skin the color of the sky.
my fingertips are made of ice
my soul is oceans deep
my tongue a bright gas fire.
my fingernails are sapphires
my legs are denim
my arms asphyxiated shivers.
my words are bright blue ink.
On the rare mornings when I wake and think,
maybe I'd look good in pink,
I know at once I never will;
I was born cobalt and ill.
And there's not much any color can do
for a girl who is perpetually blue.
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